The Widow and the Orphan
by Death Angel Productions
Summary: An alarm breaks the silence of the rigidly tidy room. "That's way too loud for this time of day..." A piece of paper. The list of all things needing to be done. A right hand gauntlet rests beyond the paper. The only task written down was simple. An order from Overwatch. It is simple. Track down Widowmaker.
1. Chapter 1

The Widow and the Orphan- Opening

An alarm breaks the silence of the rigidly tidy room. A disgruntled face glares at the alarm clock. "Damnit... That's way too loud for this time of day." A finger points at the offending piece of technology and boom. A precise, green blast destroys the alarm clock in a green mushroom cloud.

With a crude remark, he gets out of bed and neatly makes the bed behind him. Walking to the bathroom, two more of him appear. "Alright, one of you make breakfast, the other one can check what's on the to-do list." Issuing his orders, he enters the bathroom and takes a shower as the others tend to their tasks. The water pours over the scarred form of the young man. He couldn't have been more than 20 yet his body is covered from head to toes in scars. His short, black hair is spiked up and back.

Once he's finished getting cleaned up and dried off, he sits down to his meal. On the right is a piece of paper. It is the list of all things needing to be done. The clones vanished as they had completed their tasks. The only task written down is simple. But it will be messy. The task is an order. An order from Overwatch.

Track down Widowmaker.

"Not like I have anything better to do. Besides, it's time to use the old powers again." His eyes glow green. A right hand gauntlet rests beyond the paper. "Going Ghost!"

* * *

The target known as Widowmaker has locked on to her target. The youngest member of Overwatch currently. The newest too. A shame he wouldn't live to see tomorrow. "Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly..." a voice like velvet with a French accent whispers.

"So whatcha looking at?" A voice to her right says. A flick and the sniper rifle switches to an assault rifle. There in front of her is her target. A soft voiced expletive. "Surprised to see me?" He grins.

"Hardly, you aren't the first teleporting member of Overwatch."

"That may be the case. But she's got nothing on me." With a grin he begins to split into multiple clones and surround her. She couldn't keep up with numbers of clones. She looks frantically around for a means of escape. There! A chimney across the road. she fires her rope and zips to the roof pointing her assault rifle at... Nothing. The multitude of her target had vanished.

"Thought escape would be that easy? Tch. And here they were calling you a 'master assassin' in the briefing." He grins. He takes a step towards her and a storm of bullets fly at him. Not so much a blink is given to the flying lead. "The dead shall walk the land and the living shall weep and despair." The fierce green eyes glow an unworldly green, the grin made even more sinister by it. The white hair is also unexpected from such a young man. A wave of green energy drives her to her knees. The young Overwatch agent walks over. "Listen well assassin, I'm not going to kill you or turn you over to the Overwatch. I will let you go free." Her eye's register surprise at his mercy. "But. In exchange for such freedom, I'm going to ask for your help. I want you to kill a certain suit by the name of Vlad Masters. Do you agree?"


	2. Chapter 2

The Widow and the Orphan Chapter 2

The plane ride over to France was quick. He did manage some sleep so as to avoid jet lag. He wakes ups shortly before dinner. Using that time, he reports into the local Overwatch barracks. He makes sure they know he is there. Since it is now dinner time, and he'd rather starve than have Overwatch rations or cheap junk food, he is going to have dinner in the open market. He buys a simple bun, fresh cut deli meat miniature condiment packets.

He makes his dinner on a table in the square, in clear view of all the roof tops. Still too early for her to have targeted him. He's probably going to have to work for it. But when he does have it, he's got some very particular business to deal with.

The sun glared over the Parisian marketplace. Civilians mill about, tending to their own business. Among the crowd walks one young man. His fierce blue eyes scan the rooftops while his head is pointed forward instead of pointed at the rooftops. His black hair is styled up and back. The metal on the gauntlet is black in its inactive state. The neon lights are blue. The metal is formed into pointed tips. Not particularly sharp points though.

The imposing figure in a brown coat, red jeans, and a gauntlet on his right arm certainly stood out in the crowd. More than a few recognized the Overwatch emblem on his coat. A few of them didn't react nicely. They didn't see what hit them, only those whose actions were the worst are knocked out. "It isn't my fault for a change, so why do people still hate me?" He mumbles under his breath.

"Ghostbringer, are you in position?" The voice on his comm asks. Mercy, the doctor of the Watch isn't a fan of violence as such prefers operating coms rather than open combat. Ghostbringer? Well, he doesn't have any such reservations about fighting. Or killing for that matter.

"Affirmative, beginning investigation." He replies. The crowded square is one of the most common locations of Widowmaker strikes. He figures making himself look like an Overwatch Agent would draw her attention. He started by checking on the most recent murder victim. A flash of the badge and hey presto! He's in.

This is supposed to be a covert operation. It should come as no surprise that Mercy has an earful for him. "Are you TRYING to draw attention to yourself, Ghost?" Mercy says through the coms. "You shouldn't be poking around such places!"

With a low huff, he says. "With all due respect, shut up. I'm working." He turns his com off this time. The hole in the window suggests the bullet came from a roof top across the road. The placement of the body suggests the shooter shot from the direction of the sun. Two rooftops to the right of the current building. He thinks he saw her, but doesn't make a move to make this known. After a few quick words with the cops, he nods and steps

Right as he steps out of the building, he confirms his suspicions. Two rooftops to his right, the red scope of the Widowmaker's rifle is focused on him. He turns his com back on "Target found. Not ready to engage." Before Mercy could chew him out for turning off his com, he shuts it off again. He turns left, walking down the street towards an intersection. "Time to see if she bites..." He whispers. Before reaching the intersection, he darts into an alleyway she didn't have a line of sight down.

A subdued flash of light later and he's standing in a white trench coat with a t-shirt on which a stylized G symbol is imprinted in white on the black T. His left hand glove is black. The gauntlet is white with neon green lighting. His hair is white and his eyes are green. Across the road, he sees a form zip across the roofs. "Yep, she's here alright." A bullet whistle past his ear. "And she bites. This should be fun."

With a grin he shifts invisible. Her rifle points everywhere but at him. She ducks a kick aimed at her head. Her visor is down. "Now, now, this is hardly fighting fair." She clicks her tongue as a mask drops over her eyes. Her thermal vision activating.

"That's why I'm just a merc." He steps out behind her, completely visible. He side steps the butt of the assault rifle. He ducks a burst of fire. He rolls to the left over her grapnel wire. "You missed." She blinks seeing him standing against the chimney he almost rolled into. Only missed it by a shoulder's breadth. He teleports under her rifle and kicks it up. "Sorry, you won't be needing this."

"You wouldn't hit a lady would you?" She says making a pouty face at him. Something about that kind of face didn't sit right with him. It certainly didn't change his mind on her personality. "I'm just a fragile flower." Yet here she is, a master assassin wanted by Overwatch. Ghostbringer isn't buying that.

"Sorry, I'm an equal opportunist." He charges his gauntlet to draw her attention away from the left straight that knocks her mask down. He catches her round house kick before it could connect with his head. She spins the other way and he blocks the return kick with the gauntlet. She twists midair to test his defense. And falls to the ground. She lands like a cat and catches the rifle that was just launched into the air. "Wow, you _are_ good."

"Thanks I try." She stands up and bows once before firing a volley of shots in his direction. He doesn't even blink when the bullets fly through him. "What? How? Last time I checked, only Reaper could do something like that."

"Last time I checked, I'm not some freak edgelord." Ghostbringer pauses for a second. "Actually, I take that back. Calling him an edgelord is an insult to the edgy community as a whole." He side step the grapnel wire and ducks the fly by kick as she takes off across the rooftops. The sun has already set behind him.

He turns his coms on again. "Target lost." He shuts it off at the chain of profanities Mercy is slinging at him. She'll have plenty of time to chew him out later. "Honestly, she's worse than even the most over protective mother."

By the time he gets back to the barracks, Mercy is standing by the door demanding "What the hell are you thinking? Drawing that kind of attention to yourself? You do know she is a master assassin right? And honestly, why did you think she'd stick around?" Too many to bother answering.

He'd answer a few of them regardless. "Really? Didn't seem like it to me. She didn't kill me in spite of all the chances she had to do so." He retorts. "Yes, drawing all that attention was a part of my plan." Her expression did not change so he elaborates. "By drawing her attention to me, she couldn't find time to pick other targets."

"Furthermore, you engaged her in combat, you stayed right in front of her, and didn't even try to arrest her!"

"First off, I came out unscathed. Secondly, it's kind of hard to arrest someone when one's own life is on the line." He holds up a finger for each point.

"You might act tough but you're still the new guy. Mien Gott, at this rate a suicidal fly has more of a chance of catching her!" Mercy is clearly concerned about him. "You won't always have such luck in dealing with her."

"That's the reason." He says. "The spider may say 'Come into my parlor,' to the fly. To which I reply 'Don't mind if I do'. Her webs might be strong, but I doubt they can stop something that just floats through them." He stretches out on his way past her. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to get some rest." He reaches his room in the barracks and takes the bunk with his luggage stored on it. He changes into pajamas and falls asleep.

His dreams, or dream as the case maybe, is plagued with scenes from something he never saw. People he never met. Places he's never been. But one face remains. The one face that has a name associated with it in his mind that he can place in the dream. Vlad Masters.


End file.
